


Dreamless

by One_Chicago_Fanfiction



Category: Chicago Med, Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Nightmares, messed up dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_Chicago_Fanfiction/pseuds/One_Chicago_Fanfiction
Summary: Jay has some messed up dreams and wishes he had someone to help him forget them.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Dreamless

The nightmares came in pairs. One thing Jay Halstead could count on—if he woke in the night from one bad dream, when he sank back into sleep another would follow.

The first dream wasn’t the worst he’d had. It was Hank Voight, telling Jay the unit was in danger, that they were under attack, that the only way to save themselves from what was coming was to hide and wait it out. All of them but one. One of them, Voight said, firm hand on Jay’s shoulder, had to stay. If the attackers were given one member of the unit, the rest would be safe enough after all.

“You’ve got a good heart, Jay,” Voight said. “You get to choose who dies.”

Jay woke slowly from that one, the kind of dream that churned his stomach, turned him a little colder under the sheets, but was over fast enough that a walk to the bathroom and a tall glass of water was enough to push it right out of his mind.

The second dream was Will.

Will in the ED, surrounded by patients who just weren’t happy with the speed their doctor was working, with the length of time they had to wait as he worked his way through the backlog. Will, who begged the most disgruntled patient to understand, to please just wait a little longer. Will who promised they’d get treatment eventually, who watched the patient pull a gun from his waistband, and held up his hands as the waiting room watched. Will who begged for his life.

The gunshot rang out. A bullet to the head, the life gone out of him before his knees even buckled, before his body hit the floor. His brother’s lifeless body on the ED floor, pristine tiles red with the blood, pooling in the cracks, insidious and spreading—spreading right toward Jay’s feet as he stood in the doorway and watched, heart shattering, the world tilting, everything starting to slip. The patient looked at him and grinned, and the rest of the ED burst into laughter. Fingers pointed at Will, the gunman bowing for rounds of applause, and Jay opened his mouth to say something—anything—and all that came out was a single, broken sob.

Jay woke up with the sob still caught in his throat. The room was dark around him, shadows thick, no promise of morning beyond the curtains. The clock by his bedside read 3:07AM, and Jay scrubbed a hand down his face, pulled himself upright and simply breathed. He could feel the pounding of his heart, wracking through him like those sobs, and when he wiped at his eyes his fingers came away wet. He closed his eyes against the darkness and there was Will once more, dead on the ED floor. There were the laughing patients. There were rounds of applause. There was Jay, useless in the doorway—not even able to scream.

Nausea rose like claustrophobia, settling around him and sinking deep into his bones. He glanced to his side, to the empty space beside him in the bed, sheets left cold where there should have been Erin, should have been Adam, should have been someone he hadn’t messed things up with. Someone to pull him close and whisper better things into his dreams as he slept. Someone to run their fingers through his hair, someone to sit on the floor with on nights like this and talk about something—anything—else. Someone to laugh with as the shadows pulled slowly away.  
When he was satisfied he wouldn’t throw up, Jay flicked on the bedside lamp and looked at his phone on the desk, fully charged with one message awaiting him on the screen.

_Working all nigh_ t, read the message. _Breakfast after my shift?_  
_Sounds good_ , Jay’s reply typed out with trembling fingers. _You’re buying._

_You’re up late. Can’t sleep?_ Came the reply, and Jay stared at the question mark for a long time as he considered his response.  
_Partying_ , Jay replied, and he could hear the scoff in the reply.  
_Yeah right_ , came the response. _Pick you up at 7. Go to sleep. Love you, brother._

And Jay smiled a little, stared down at the screen until his stomach was settled and the darkness at the edges of his bedroom light didn’t seem so monstrous, so hungry. He pulled his duvet from the bed, padded into the living room and settled down underneath it on the couch, TV playing low as he let his eyes drift shut again, lulled by the gentle sounds of a laugh track and the light dancing against his eyelids.

Jay fell asleep slowly, and this time it was dreamless.


End file.
